An Empire Painted Black
by Sparks94
Summary: The Black family had fallen to ruin and dust much like the Roman Empire had. However, what defines us is how well we rise after falling. You've seen their descent, now watch them soar once more in a place riddled with murder, corruption, betrayal and political intrigues. Time travel AU, Fem!Harry. Harry/Commodus, Draco/Lucilla.
1. Prologue

**MAXIMUS P.O.V**

That day was miserably cold, with frigid biting winds slicing at any bared skin and sheets of ice crisping the forest floor of their encampment. The sky was dreary, grey and heavily oppressive, threatening rainfall come night. Yet, as Maximus rode into their camp beside their emperor Marcus Aurelius after another long, gruelling battle to push the Gauls back and into subjugation, he couldn't understand why everyone he passed on his short ride to the centre of the camp was so happy. Until he saw her.

Really, in time to come, Maximus would understand her story never really began with her, but with players who died long before her first breath, and just like her life's journey through this world, her sudden appearance in a closed off regiment of the Roman Empire, entrenched in battle with the Gauls across a nation unmapped, didn't begin with her either. It began with a man, as most stories do.

He too, had murky roots, a back story Maximus was sure only the Emperor knew and whispered of. However, since his own induction into Romes civilisation, into this legion itself, a short five years prior, he had climbed the ranks like it was naught but a ladder, befriending soldiers and generals with easy banter, cheeky smiles, and sword metal eyes that told of knowing a little too much for comfort. Maximus himself had found companionship over a few cups of wine with the man, speaking far more freely than perhaps he should have.

Mayhap that was the mans strength, his orbital pull of friendliness. Mayhap that was how and why not many questioned exactly who he was or where he came from. Mayhap that is why the man had become such a trusted advisor to Marcus Aurelius in only five years, where many had tried for a life time and failed as miserably as the Gaulish weather. Maximus didn't often spend his time on such thoughts, he liked the man and Sirius Black seemed to like him, especially with the jokes and jaunty conversation he had struck up with Maximus on the ride back to camp.

Still, upon witnessing the woman, seeing Sirius's reaction and the consequential proceedings that shook the Roman Empire at its very roots just from her presence and involvement in time to come, perhaps even instigating and conserving the empire where it would have surely crumbled without her presence before… Perhaps he should begin asking such questions. But that was hindsight, sight and ideology Maximus would not gain for many, many years, and upon that dreary day, wet, cold and hungry from battle, Maximus could only focus on how astronomically she stood out nestled in her surroundings.

It was her hair really, that caught ones eye first and foremost, or perhaps it was because that was all Maximus could see of her with her back turned to his face, talking amicably to a group of muddied soldiers. Red flames of vivid vermillion, candlelight orange with hints and strands of burnt marigold concentrated around her face. As if Helios and Apollo, moved much by her beauty, had clambered down from the sky and blessed her hair with sunbeams by a soft kiss to the crown of her head. Alight and moving in spiralling tendrils that danced in the wind, long and alive. So very, very alive.

The other horse riding side by side with Marcus neighed loudly as Sirius yanked hard on the reigns, his feet slogging into the mud deeply as he scrambled from his horse, his voice hoarse and broken as he shouted over to the little congregation as he stumbled forward in his haste. Maximus had never seen the man in such a state before.

"Harry! Dear gods… Harry! Herennia!"

Then she turned and Maximus vaguely knew what had caused the light atmosphere and smiles. Marble skin, pale and white like the moon, almost deathly so if it were not for the healthy blush blossoming from the cold tinging at the apple of her cheeks and tip of her nose and chin. A constellation of freckles mapped across her small nose, swerving under her eyes like Gaulish war paint. Just like her skin, marbled, her features were sharp, carven. Cut lines and arching brows of Vienna red. She was tall, draped in a fur cloak and an off green woollen dress with hints of healthy curves playing underneath the confines of the heavy clothes.

A strange scar splintered across her forehead, silvery and spiderweb thin, in a zagging shape that touched down on one eyebrow, threatening to slice it in two. Then her eyes took breath away. There was no paint, no fruit, no field of grass or rolling hills that could describe the very green that shone from those eyes unnaturally bright. Then Sirius had reached the smiling woman, grasped her solidly by the shoulders and trembled through his next words.

"How… What… How?"

Her smile was bright, toothy, unrestrained and whole hearted. Maximus idly wondered if he crept up to her, raised his hands, if he too could feel heat radiating from the smile like one would with a sun ray penetrating thick clouds. Her fingers were long, thin, a musicians hands, as they raised, clasped tightly at one of Sirius's, pulled it gently away from her shoulder and yet kept it prisoner between the bars of her fingers. As if she couldn't quite bear letting him go.

"Sanguini helped me. You really, truly believed the veil could stop me from finding you?"

Sirius violently shook his head, tangled locks and curls whipping at his own face, though the man seemed not to care. The woman… Herennia seemed to care enough for them both as she finally let go of his hands to grasp his face between firm but gentle palms, her thumb idly running along his bearded cheek, gently scratching off a smear of mud… Or blood, it was hard to tell the difference between the two when they dried upon skin together.

"But… The veil is a one way trip. How are you going to get ho-"

Whatever Sirius was going to say would be forever lost as she cut him off with a humming, raspy chuckle, a sound that reminded Maximus of running fingers through fine, thick fur.

"I'm not. I'm here, I'm with you. To me, that is all that matters. Home… Home wasn't home without you."

From his angle, Maximus could only see half of Sirius's answering smile as he and she brushed forehead against forehead in a familiar gesture between the two. So lost in this odd display, understanding their words but obviously missing the heavy meaning behind them even with the hints so present, Maximus missed the Emperor descending from his own horse and marching towards the two with the resounding clank and click of his armour. It was only as he stopped a few steps shy of the pair, smiling gently and beginning to speak that Maximus's mind finally drifted back from the sky and into his head, where it belonged, as he jumped from his own mount and made way to stand next to Marcus.

"Dear Sirius… Who is this lady?"

Sirius reluctantly pulled away from the embrace, but not fully, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders and pulling her to his side.

"This is Herennia Potte-… Herennia Black. My daughter. And that man there you see trying to dislodge his sandal from the pile of horse shit he's trod in…"

With his free hand, Sirius dismissively waved behind them to a young man, around the same age as the woman, nineteen if Maximus had to guess, one he had overlooked somehow, who was currently trying to heave his leg free from a pile of manure. He was as striking as the female, white blonde hair, but his features were too sharp, pointed. His dress and manner was also contradictory, dressed in a thick silken cloak, beguiled with gems and gold, face turned and scrunched in disdain as he glanced at them, finally pulling himself free as he shook his leg out. Not the best choice of footwear.

"Is my nephew, Draco Malfoy. Or is it black now?"

Giving up on trying to clean his foot, he hobbled towards the pair, snarl twisting heavily at his lips, words bitten out between clenched teeth. He looked like a spoiled prince.

"Black. I've given up on the Malfoy name a long time ago now. However, I'm heavily considering a conversion back, what with Herennia promising a 'adventure through battlefields' away from father and only delivering on wet weather, mud and vile smells. I mean, look at my cloak! This is real gold embroidery and it's stained! My sandals are ruined! I'll have to throw this tunic away and it smells like death around here! If mother was here she would be-"

Maximus wondered if this Draco was fully cognative… What else had he expected a battlefield to be like if not of death and decay? The two, Sirius and Herennia, seemed like they were used to the bemoaning princely boy as they simply rolled their eyes and said in unison;

"Be silent Draco."

* * *

 **Should I continue?**


	2. A New Breed

**Maximus's P.O.V part II**

A new breed of danger. That was what this house of Black was. Of course, the danger was not overt, it was subtle, like the flash of reflection in the pool you were drinking from, a ripple of black and decedent green. It was only as you leaned in further for another thirst quenching sip that the water snake would leap. By then, it would all be to late. The very same could be said for the Blacks, you only felt their power when it was already instilled upon you and those around you, the scratch of rough rope around your neck just as your feet tipped from solid ground.

Of course, it wasn't obvious. They did not run around with swords unsheathed, threats spewed from bared teeth or plots and schemes conjured in dark corners. The problem was simple, they won you over, made you believe you wanted that rope around your neck, made you hallucinate that the venomous snake was only a distortion of your own reflection. Maximus doubted, especially in the case of Herennia, or Harry as she liked to be called, they even knew of their effect, not to its fullest extent. The main concern wasn't even what they wanted, what they were doing, or who they really were, it was them united. Singular? A respectable person. United? A new breed of trouble indeed.

Sirius, with his easy manner, matured state and indulgence and perceivance of others wants and needs made him popular amongst the generals, the lieutenants, the old dogs who had seen much of life, won their fair share of battle scars and found solace in reminiscing over family and the olden days of sun, sea and wine. He made them feel young again, gave them hope of returning to those days even if in just memory and, most of all, made them forget the nightmares, the lost friends, the dead ones that haunted their dreams and peripheral vision, the ghosts of too many battles won and survived. However, Sirius's impact ended there, just out of reach of the younger minds, the fresher bodies, hopes and ambitions… And that is where Draco and Harry stepped in.

Draco made himself at home between the pit of senators sons, wealthy, bratty and spoiled, who had been sent to the front lines to learn 'discipline' and to bring honour to the family for fighting for the might and respectability of Rome and all her glory. He debated politics with them, something they had been surely missing since their arrival. He reviewed business plans with them, talked trade routes, revenue and commerce, giving advice… for prices and tokens not yet agreed on, but would definitely be later called upon. He talked about family, bemoaned with them, sympathised with the heavy weight of having your families name pressing down upon your shoulders, snarled and jeered at the lower classes with them. Yes, Draco had most definitely made a home for himself amongst the young vipers of tomorrow…

And yet, it was somehow Harry who was the most impressive of them all. What the other two failed in, the people hardly anyone could ever reach or understand including Draco and Sirius, the real and true body of Rome, Harry practically had bent down on solid knee to kiss the tips of her toes. She founded her temple in the mass of the down trodden, the every day man and woman, the woeful and so very human. Sirius may have had the generals, Draco may have had the politicians of tomorrow, but Harry had the people, the honest and true people of Rome and they were ten times the number, ten times the importance and had ten times the impact of the other groups. After all, you do not have politicians and senators if you did not have the people to vote them in, to back them, to fund their agendas, you also didn't have the generals or armies if their were no people to protect, to fight for, to feed and clothe and fund said army.

She too, won them over easily enough. An ear for listening there, a help with the sheep and cattle there, a warm smile and giving hand, a shared meal in the slaves quarters, warm blankets handed out, tending to the injured, the ones overlooked due to severity, and yet somehow ending up surviving due to Harry's determination and foreign knowledge of healing. Oh yes, they all fell so easily, Maximus himself included. Together? The three had bewitched the legion in no less than a month and if in the capital, given time, Maximus had no doubt they would have bewitched the whole of Rome itself. Perhaps that was why one blisteringly cold night, after hearing word that the younger Blacks would be leaving for Rome within the weeks end, that he found himself outside of Draco's and Harry's tent, slithering in through the untied flaps uninvited.

The first thing he noticed was the heat of the tent, and not only in respect to the large fire pit lit in the centre of the makeshift room. The two were standing, only a few feet apart, one chair over turned and left forgotten. Draco was angled away, on foot behind the other, linen green tunic edge threatening to catch fire by it's perilous position near the fire pit, as if expecting a hit and hoping that having the fire between them would stall the blow. Harry was standing in a deep blue dress, high necked and bare armed, skirts raised in clenched knuckled fists, foot angled as if she were seconds away from using Draco's only barrier to her wrath, the fire, against him and to kick the bronze spitting and crackling pit right at him. Thankfully, there would be no burning that night as Maximus's arrival had startled Harry into jumping away from the fire, dropping her skirts in the process. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco huff in a breath of relaxation… Or indignation, he couldn't tell which.

"I'm sorry if I have scared you Lady Herennia."

Her eyes scanned him up and down in a swift, well practice inventory of threat or foe detection, having settled on friend as she smoothed her skirts down, cast one more derivative glare at Draco before finally turning to him fully, brightly smiling at him.

"Just Harry, please. And fear not, I have seen scary…"

She walked closer, cocked her head to the side and it was only as the fire pit crackled and flickered brighter that he noticed her smile was almost wolffish. For a split moment, he had the outlandish thought she would reach out and poke his nose as if he was a child she was goading, which she thankfully did not do. However, her words chilled him more than the nights air could, even if he did not fully understand what or who she was hinting at.

"And you do not have his smile."

"Harry!"

Harry's head snapped around to face an increasingly reddened Draco, who had gained enough bravery to face the same side of the room Harry inhabited. They seemingly had a non verbal argument before Harry sequestered and turned back to a highly confused Maximus, embarrassment and regretfulness painting her featured in shadows.

"I'm sorry, It has been a tiring day and I should not take it out on you. Here, sit down by the fire, have a warm up! I'll fetch some wine and cheese-"

She patted him on the back, guiding him over to the free chair as Draco puffed and scornfully bent down to pick up the knocked over one. Maximus began to shake his head, denial on his lips, sure he had intruded on a very heated, very personal family spat. To be fair, he wasn't really sure why he was here in the first place. His whirling, sleepless mind and feet and carried him away.

"No, I do not wish to impose my lad-, Harry, do not go to such lengths on my account."

The anger was gone, the wrath doused and all that was left was starlight and sparkling eyes as she somehow managed to push him into the chair, sandals clicking on the floor as she made her way to the tents entrance, sparing one last warm smile to him before she joked and disappeared into the night with a whoosh of the tent flap slipping closed.

"Who said the wine or cheese was for you?"

All was silent apart from the chitter of the fire for a long while, Maximus, for once, at a loss of what to say or do, battle would have been easier, before Draco seemed to have taken pity on him, sat in the free chair and eyed him as if he was a bleeding antelope and he a lion. If the boy wasn't careful with those looks, Maximus would break his jaw, however, he seemed as perceptive as Sirius and finally broke the look off, a smile splintering his face nearly in two.

"Do not look so… wrinkled. She needed the fresh air any how and take her temper not so seriously. She has fire in her blood that one and sometimes it boils over and scorches those who did not ignite it. She meant no harm or unfair disposition upon you… You were simply unfortunate enough to be the one to interrupt after I had spent an hour or two stoking her ire. I really can't help it sometimes, she is so easy to rile and the results are often spectacular, perhaps I should get another past time. Until then… Well, I suppose you heard the shouting and arguments then?"

The keen glint in his light grey eyes were a common occurrence, normally present in senators, but Maximus knew it all the same. _What exactly is it you know?_ Of course, Draco did not seem the type to openly ask, unlike Maximus and seemingly Harry, and so Maximus cut to the chase, denying the young man the pleasure of barbed words and mind games that was sure to follow the tail end of his question.

"The shouting? Yes. The words not so much."

He looked a little put out on being denied such fun as his lips twitched and he reclined back in his chair, one arm slung over the back.

"Well, I know you know we are to be leaving soon, that much everybody knows."

Maximus idly nodded as he shirked off his fur cloak, the fire finally heating him sufficiently as he lent his elbows on his bent knees, face drawing closer to the open flame, watching the licks, curls and tendrils dancing.

"Ah, yes… is that what the argument was caused by? You do not wish to leave?"

It would make sense. If they were to settle in Rome, to become Roman citizens, they would need to act and behave like them if they were to get far. Draco was young, headstrong, likely itching to prove his honour in battle like other boys his age, and what an entrance to Roman society would that be, if the youngest had already served the imperial army and won.

"What? Me?"

Draco broke out laughing, deep, rich and bone rattling, his stomach crunching as he bent forward. Finally, after he composed himself, still a chuckle here and there to lighten his speech, he spoke.

"You couldn't be more wrong! I can't wait to get out of this shit hole! The blood, the wounded, the constant crying, the dirt and grime… No, this place is definitely not for me. Rome has to be at least a fraction better than here. No, it is Harry kicking up a riot about leaving, as per usual."

By the end, Draco had fully calmed down, even seemed a bit gloomy, as he rearranged himself in his seat, as if it was a throne. Maximus was… Maximus was just lost. It was surprising Harry had been allowed to stay on the front line as long as she had, and even with the blessing of Marcus Aurelius, her overall favourable opinion from the men, she was pushing her luck by staying till the weeks end. A battlefield, a front line one at that, was no place for a lady. Even more so for a well liked lady like Herennia.

"I don't understand, if you and Sirius are leaving-"

"Well, that is where you are wrong my friend. Sirius is not leaving. Apparently he's made an oath to that old man to see this fight through with him and will not be budged on the matter. However, he wants me and Harry out of harms way and to begin setting up a new life for all of us in Rome for when he gets back. So, as I dutifully do, I am to begin a senatorial position, bequeathed to Sirius by the emperor, and hold it for him until his arrival back and I suppose, Harry does the rest… whatever the rest is."

So, it was true then. There had been rumours around camp that Sirius had been given the much prized position, but only words and hushed conversations. No doubt when word reached others, especially the senators already in place at Rome, the plotting would begin. They were all from old blood, old names, they would not easily accept an outsider into their ranks, specifically one not native to Rome itself. What exactly was the emperor thinking… Or more importantly, what was he planning? Maximus decided to keep his suspicions and questions for himself, for the time being, and asked the most simplest.

"And she does not wish to leave Sirius? Is she afraid?"

Draco's face dropped and become so still, so serious, it was a shock to Maximus's system.

"Harry has come a long, long, long way for Sirius, on nothing but a rumour of him being alive, in detriment to her own life and wellbeing… Lets just say leaving him so soon after finding him alive is a bitter wine for Harry to swallow, one she won't swallow willingly but must."

Now it was Maximus's turn to lean back and scan Draco, a taunting glint making itself at home in the very far depths of his eyes.

"You do not seem the type to help someone or journey with them on nothing but a rumour."

Draco turned towards the fire, voice low and quiet, lost in memory.

"And you would be correct. Yet, when it is Harry, you learn to listen. She has an uncanny ability to be right when the odds are stacked against her, stronger when outnumbered, dangerous when backed into a corner, and yet, somehow, always turns out to be the hero. It's best to be on Herennia's side rather then against it when swords are being picked up… Trust me on that one…"

Something in Draco's face, a shadow, a demon or god, gave him away, perhaps the weight of the world, but Maximus knew… He knew. Not anything was as it seemed with these three and whatever it was that had darkened Draco's face was bigger, meaner and more dangerous then the three Blacks.

"This… this isn't just about Sirius is it?"

The wind picked up outside the tent and it sounded like a pack of wolves, or the ghosts of the damned, swirling around them, salivating, waiting, ready. Draco turned to face him, eyes hard and cold and dead chips of ice and suddenly, Maximus wanted to know what he had seen, what he had done, what he and Harry and Sirius had lived through to gain eyes as haunting as theirs.

"No… No it's not. Let's just say a lot for my people balances on our actions here and leave it at that. Now, onto happier topics. How long is this journey to Rome going to take us?"

And just like that, the dread was gone, the ghosts or winds or wolves gone and he was back to his smarmy smiling once more but Maximus saw through it now. It was a mask, an act, another fake face like Jupiter. Draco and his spoiled prince persona hiding his quick brain, political eyes and even keener tongue, Herennia's placid smile and soft looks shielding the raging tempo of rage, a tacticians mind and a will of brimstone and steel, Sirius's cheeky nature and easy manner hiding the wise glint, all too knowing smile and all too ready for battle stance. Masks. Maximus played along. What else could he do?

"A full turn of the moon. Perhaps more. You are obviously new to these lands. Do you know the roads? If not I would start learning, it's an arduous journey."

Draco met his eyes and held them, one eyebrow quirking high.

"No need, your dear emperor, or should I say our now? Our dear emperor has ordered us an envoy and they should know the route well enough. From what Sirius has told me, it's his own children who will be playing escort and tour guide upon our arrival in Rome. Apparently our journey coincides with their visitation to their beloved father as he and his son have new and important matters to discuss and preparing, guarding and provisioning for one journey is more economically and militaristically sound then two leaving at the same time when your stuck on a battlefield and under threat of Gaul ambush."

Maximus had had his fill of mind games for the night and slapped his knees as he went to stand, speaking as he went.

"Well then, I will wish you and your cousin a safe and fast journey."

Draco cut him off before his backside could leave the cushion, satisfaction licking at the corners of his lips. Maximus grew weary as he fell back into his seat.

"Oh, haven't you heard? You're to be our guard. You're coming with us."

There it was, there was the hidden punch line, that was why Draco looked like the cat who got the cream as he chuckled once more. This is what he had been leading up to and Maximus could only gape at the younger man. Leave? To Rome? Guard? But the war, the emperors promise, he was meant to finish here and be free to go back to his wife and child, he was meant to… Draco stood and began to leave, but obviously couldn't help himself from throwing one last jeer at him.

"Tell dear Herennia I fancy no wine tonight and shall see her come morn. I fear I've already dabbled enough as it is. Sleep well, we have a long… What was it you called it? Yes, an arduous journey ahead of us."

And just like that, he left Maximus to his spiralling thoughts and fire light.

* * *

 **Next chapter preview;**

"He's a slippery, scheming viper who would much rather poison you and watch you ignorantly die than to put a sword to your heart. Whatever Draco's told you, whatever he's asked of you, it is not for free and somehow, someway, it benefits him, even if it's just for his amusement."

A wry chuckle left Maximus's lips, turning to a puff of fog in the morning air.

"And you wish to begin a new home with him?"

Yet again, as Harry smiled at him and hugged her own fur cloak tighter to her body, Maximus felt like he was missing out on the untold joke, the bigger picture. It was a unsettling feeling, but one he was unfortunately becoming acquainted with when the Blacks were involved.

"Oh, do not get me wrong, he is all that but he is much more. He's loyal, deathly so to those he feels have earned it. And he has a mind for politics like no other, and can see a scheme or plot a mile away, something me and Sirius surely need in a place like Rome. And underneath all that bravado, that spoiled boy attitude and whining is a man who feels and loves more deeply than most… Perhaps too much sometimes. He's a good man, Draco, once you peel back the fangs and scales."

 _We may also have a little sneak peak into Lucilla's and Commodus's P.O.V next chapter too!_

* * *

 **A.N Important;** Do not worry, we will eventually get to Draco's, Harry's and Sirius's P.O.V, just not for a while yet. If I delve into them now, it will give too much away, like why they really have time travelled, what their end game is and what it has to do with Rome and well, I want to keep the suspense going for a little while yet.

Sorry for any any mistakes in spelling or grammar, my laptop is being fixed and this is being typed up on my iPad and the spell check and grammar checkers on IPads are not the best! So please excuse any mistakes, I will come back and fix them eventually.

Thank you to all those who reviewed! Really, this chapter is for you and I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you too to those who followed and favourited and I hope you are enjoying the ride so far.

As always, please drop a review! They are the oil and fuel that keeps the chapters churning out!


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